


Virtue

by startswithhope



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Captain Swan AU Week, Captain Swan AU Week 2016, F/M, Fluff, Lieutenant Duckling, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:12:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the person you always go to for answers has actually be the answer all along? 2400 words of fluffy, mildly smutty, Lieutenant Duckling for your AU week reading pleasure…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Virtue

Her woolen hood is no match for the fierce winter wind and it falls backwards as she raps impatiently on the frost covered glass. She knows her gloves are muffling the sound, but she refuses to take them off.

“C’mon Killian, wake up!”

Flint flickers in the darkness for a moment until she sees the glow of a candle drawing near, the flame lightening the shadows of the face she so desperately needs to see. His eyes are heavy lidded with sleep, but the smile he always bestows when he sees her is there. The wind extinguishes the candle the moment he’s pushed the window open towards her, blanketing his room in darkness once again.

“Swan, it’s late, is everything alright? What am I saying, of course it isn’t. Come…”

The arms that reach for her have changed much over the years, once scrawny and unsure are now strong and steady. She can feel her heart racing as his large hands circle her waist and lift her with ease over the windowsill and into his room. These feelings, they’re new, or at least she’s newly allowing herself to notice them. Even through the thick wool of her cape she can feel the warmth of him against her chest, the sea salt smell of his skin comforting her for the first time since the conversation that had led her out of the castle and into the night.

“Killian, I don’t know what to do?”

The warmth is a shock, but she leans in towards his palm as he cups the side of her face, his thumb rubbing lightly across her cheekbone.

“You’re frozen, love. Let me relight the candle and we’ll move closer to the stove. You can tell me everything and we’ll figure it out, together.”

She about to voice her agreement, but is struck silent when his lips brush sweetly across her forehead. The darkness is a blessing as she knows her pale skin must be the color of the ripe strawberries that dot the field just outside the castle where she and Killian have had many a spring afternoon picnic. She’s left fumbling with both her emotions and the clasp of her cape as he crosses back to the flint to relight the candle.

“Here, Emma, come sit.”

The small flame lights the three walls at the end of his bed where’s he’s now perched with his stocking feet aimed towards the small stove in the corner. He wiggles his toes and she can’t help but laugh, thankful that even through the tension she’s created he can still make her smile like no other. Draping her cape over his chair on the way, she shivers slightly as the cool air hits her arms through the thin material of her nightdress. She really should have put on a warmer dress, but she just had to get out of there and couldn’t spare a single second.

It’s been many years since he’s been allowed to see her dressed this way and she feels her confidence boost as his eyes widen and not-so-discreetly rake over her form. His hand comes up to scratch behind his ear as he hastily looks away towards the stove. It’s nice to be noticed, by him, and not just the string of courtiers her parents have been parading her way for months. She sits beside him on the edge of the mattress and they both are still for what feels like forever, their arms between them stiff and uncharacteristically uncertain. She needs him too much to deal with whatever is happening right now, so she makes the first move.

Leaning towards him, she rests the side of her head against his shoulder, giving him the invitation he needs to lift his arm and pull her in close.

_This. She just needs this._

“My Mom wants me to reconcile with Baelfire.”

Killian lets out a grunt at that, his arm about her waist tightening in what feels almost possessive. Once quite close, Killian and Baelfire had drifted apart as teenagers. While Killian had followed his brother Liam into the Royal Navy, Baelfire’s life had consisted of constant complaints over his father and his desire to run off to another land. Emma had fallen for what she thought was his sense of adventure, not realizing until too late that he couldn’t be counted on. When he disappeared without a trace a few years ago, Killian had been there to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. Since his sudden return earlier this year, Killian has refused to be in Baelfire’s company. In his eyes, the man had no honor.

If only her parents felt the same…

“They can’t think that an alliance with his father is more important than your happiness, can they?”

“No, it’s not about that. You know Snow, she’s such a romantic and is convinced that my first love must be my _True Love_. I know she means well, but not everyone has what my parents have.”

“And I assume you’ve never told them his real reason for leaving all those years ago? That he was too much of a coward to say goodbye?”

The sigh she huffs through her nose is her only answer to that. Burrowing deeper into Killian’s chest, she does her best to focus on the arms that are holding her now instead of the one’s that had pushed her away. The two don’t really even compare in importance to her anymore. Baelfire is a part of her past, a past now threatening to swallow her whole.

“It’s settled then, love. Tomorrow morning we will go to your parents, together, and you will tell them everything. They need to know that Baelfire didn’t leave on a mission for his father’s kingdom. He broke your heart and I won’t let that happen again.”

“What if that isn’t enough? I can’t marry him, Killian. I’d punch him in the face if he ever came near me again.”

Her head vibrates against his chest at Killian’s deep throated chuckle and his other arm reaches up to cup her head under his chin.

“That’s my Swan. We’ll think of something, I promise.”

The candle by his bed burns down low as the night wears on, his arms never wavering as she feels herself begin to succumb to the late hour. She knows she should make her way back to the castle. She knows she should get up and put a respectable distance between them. She knows he’s having the same thoughts. He may have pretended to be a pirate during games of their youth, but as a young man, he values honor more than almost anything. She hopes that maybe his feelings for her, feelings she’s beginning to think may have changed in ways she understands, might work in her favor.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“It isn’t proper.”

Lifting her head from his chest, she leans back far enough so she can see the familiar blue of his eyes. In the warm light from the candle the defined bones along his cheek seem sharper, the scruff along his jaw darker and even more masculine. The hair beneath her fingers is coarse, yet somehow still soft, as she lays her hand against where his nightshirt is open at his chest.

“I know.”

Her breaths become shallow as his eyes drop to her lips, his own somehow getting closer. It’s not until she feels his hand tangle deeper into her hair does she realize she’s been leaning forward at the same time as he has been holding her tighter.

“Emma?”

His voice sounds completely wrecked, voicing the question he knows he should ask, the question she answers for them both. He tastes so much better now than he did after their first kiss when they were eight, a kiss he’d only given her on a dare. Now, as his lips move with purpose against hers, she can’t believe they’ve waited so long to do this again. She doesn’t know what to do, but knows she wants more, everything that he was always meant to be the one to give. He seems to be similarly affected, his hands now gripping her waist so he can settle her across his lap. She breathes heavily against his lips as they pull back for air, her hands anchoring his head so he can’t draw back too far.

There’s no protest from him at all when she drops her lips back to his, or even when she angles his head slightly to give her better access to his mouth. He seems perfectly content to let her lead, even though she has no real idea of where they are headed. There are things she’s learned about sex, mainly from Ruby in the castle’s kitchen, things that have made her blush and infinitely curious. The stiffening in his trousers she feels beneath her backside is one of those things. And suddenly, she’s feeling way over her head.

Killian must sense her apprehension, as he’s the one to break the kiss first. His hand leaves her waist so he can brush at the dent in her chin with his thumb, all the while looking down at her with more contentment than she’s ever seen.

“I’ve rubbed your skin raw with my whiskers, milady.”

“And I think I may have gouged the back of your neck with my fingernail.”

“Even in this, Swan, we somehow manage to give ourselves battle wounds.”

“They say all’s fair in love and war…”

The words have left her mouth before she realizes what she has said. Any possibility that he hadn’t fully understood is made clear as his lips crash back to hers on a deep throated groan. She has to cling to his neck to remain upright, but feels her body sinking deeper into his as his tongue pushes past the seam of her lips and begins to curl and taste her like a starving man after a long journey. The warmth between her thighs she’d begun to notice even before their first kiss has now intensified and she aches for something she’s not sure of how to ask for. She just knows she needs to feel Killian’s hands on her in ways she’s only dreamt of before this night.

Shifting in his lap, she pulls a gasp from his lips, so she does it again.

“Emma, my love, we should stop…”

His actions belie his words, however, as his hands grip harder at her waist and his mouth slides from her lips to the soft skin of her throat. Feeling confident in how much he obviously wants her, she whispers his name as his tongue finds a sensitive spot at the base of her neck. When his lips clamp down where his tongue first explored, she nearly cries out in pleasure, once again rocking her hips down against his lap in retaliation. He growls against her skin but doesn’t stop kissing, his hand now moving from her waist to settle along her thigh.

Weaving her fingers between his she does the only thing her instincts are screaming at her to do, and moves their joined hands toward the apex of her thighs. His head lifts from her neck in a flash, his hand stiffening beneath hers and refusing to move any farther. She knows it’s just his damn honor again, but she can’t help but feel a bit rejected.

“Don’t you want to touch me?”

His head dips back down and his nose brushes against the tip of hers as he whispers with some difficulty.

“Oh Emma, more than you can possibly fathom. We can’t go too far. Your virtue…”

“Will remain intact. You can still touch me.”

He doesn’t fight her when she begins to move their hands again. As his fingers and hers press down over the material of her nightdress against where she’s desperate, she silently hopes for him to take control. By some miraculous grace, he does. His eyes stay clamped tight to hers as his fingers begin to move with tentative strokes, but soon her breathing begins to quicken and she can keep her eyes open no longer. Her fingers leaves his to grip at his wrist as her body begins to move against his hand, searching, overflowing with new sensations. His free hand moves to cup the back of her neck and his lips press hot kisses across her cheek, breathing words of love and devotion against her skin. When his lips find hers again she releases a moan into his mouth, no longer able to control her body’s reactions to his touch. His fingers press harder to her center and her spine arches, bringing her backside down firmly against his erect length and a groan from his lips.

Hoping she can bring him some pleasure as well, she continues to rock towards his hand and back down into his lap until she feels an overwhelming tingling of her sex beneath his fingers. His massaging intensifies and she finally does cry out, her fingers at his wrist digging deep into his skin as the tension that had been building breaks in the most pleasurable of ways.

“Emma, you are so beautiful…”

If her cheeks could possibly flush any more than they already are, she would probably blush at that. At the moment, she feels boneless and tingly and she just wants to feel his mouth on hers again. Releasing her now aching fingers from his wrist, she reaches up to pull his head down towards her upturned lips. The kiss they share this time is softer, slower, every slide and nip purposeful and perfect. She hopes he can hear her saying “I love you” every time she presses her lips against his, over and over until the words might not sound scary actually spoken aloud.

* * *

 

The next morning they head to the castle together hand in hand, Killian’s back a bit sore from sleeping on the floor and Emma’s cheeks still a bit pink as she thinks of all that had occurred the night before. There’s a knot of worry deep in her stomach that tightens with each step they get closer to the castle and her parents who must be sick with worry. She hopes that they will soften when she explains that her mother was right all along. Her first love _is_ her True Love. And that love is, and always has been, Killian Jones.


End file.
